Inspiring Loyalty
by SecondAssistantLibrarian
Summary: Killing Harry Potter had not worked out too well so far. Perhaps other methods are needed to handle The-Boy-Who-Lived. A story about good old-fashioned Slytherin cunning, learning where loyalty should be placed, and the benefits of chocolate.
1. Chapter 1

***Alas, I do not own Harry Potter. As nice as that would be…I give credit to Ms. Rowling and her genius imagination. **

Chapter One

"What if you didn't kill him, my Lord?" Professor Severus Snape addressed the Dark Lord in the manor's most private study. Voldemort had his back to the man as he stared into a roaring fire. He turned around at Snape's words.

"Not kill him, Severus? Has your heart turned soft to the boy? Your time with Dumbledore has surely addled your brains. Potter must die!" Voldemort slammed his palm on his desk emphasizing his point.

"Do you have some other reason besides a personal vendetta to see Potter's demise?" If they had not been alone, Severus certainly would have received some curse to put him back in his place, but they had long since developed a friendship. At least, as close as two Slytherins could get to friendship.

Voldemort turned back to the fire as he spoke. "Is he not the symbol for the Light?" he mused, "I wonder what would happen to the wizarding world if The-Boy-Who-Lived met an untimely death at my hands. They would begin to lose hope, all because Harry Potter was gone."

"Would you have him die a martyr?"

"What do you mean, Severus?" Voldemort asked with an edge to his voice.

Snape paused for a moment before answering the Dark Lord; "The wizarding world would still be able to rally around him, even in death, my Lord. Maybe Potter's downfall would give them even more incentive to fight."

"Have you a better idea to weaken the opposition?" Voldemort knew Snape had a plan; otherwise he would not have stuck up this conversation in the first place. He waited for the Potions Master to gather his thoughts. The fire gave a large crackle into the silence of the room just as Snape began to speak.

"Yes, my Lord I might have a plan suitable for you. Of late, I have spent a considerable amount of time thinking about your most recent brush with Potter. I respect your desire to kill him, but as you already know, I politely disagree…"

"Move on with it, Severus! I did not go to such lengths to become immortal just to hear you prattle!"

"Very well, to make it plain, killing Potter would not have the desired results. More people would join the Light. But, what if you took their Savior from them in a different manner? What if Potter were in your service, loyal to you and not the old coot? Then you would truly make the wizarding world feel despair. It would show that anyone, _anyone_ can become a dark wizard."

Voldemort pondered Severus' words for a couple of minutes. Harry Potter, an even larger nuisance than Dumbledore, turning against the Light? He shook his head.

"I've already offered him a place at my side. He cannot be turned."

"Your offers were made at inopportune times when his Gryffindor pride was at his highest. You cannot honestly expect him to entertain becoming a dark wizard as he is saving his friends or fighting for his life. He is no Slytherin; therefore he has no self-preservation instincts. Perhaps if you were able to take him away from Hogwarts and Dumbledore's Gryffindor-esque influence, you would have a chance."

"That is precisely what I tried to do in the graveyard, Severus. Look how well that went." The Dark Lord threw up his hands and started to pace. "Do you think he could be turned?"

"Yes, my Lord, I do."

"How did that twit Dumbledore gain the boy's confidence?"

Severus met Voldemort's eyes, "He became the father figure that Potter never had. Orphaned as an infant and going up with magic-hating muggles made the boy's childhood less than attractive. All Albus has to do was offer him a sweet and The-bloody-boy-who-lived was in his pocket."

"It will take more than sugar to convince Harry Potter."

"That it will, my Lord, but at least you will know that once you have Potter, you will have him for life."

"He's that loyal, eh?" Voldemort moved away from the fire to sit behind his desk, motioning for the Potions Master to take a seat in front of him.

"Aye," Snape answered as he adjusted his robes and found a comfortable position.

"All right, Severus, let's pretend that I like your idea. How to we get Potter? I've studied the wards that protect him. They will hold until he becomes of age; there is nothing I can do to bring them down." Voldemort sighed heavily before continuing, "The other ten months of the year he is at Hogwarts. I believe I do not even need to comment on why we cannot get him from there."

"Actually, my Lord, there may be a way."

Intrigued, Voldemort leaned across the desk towards Snape. "What schemes have you thought of my snake?"

Snape allowed himself a small smirk before slipping back into an emotionless mask. "Like you, I also studied the wards and drew the same conclusions. But, then it occurred to me that even if we had Potter, we would still need to find a way to make him stay without any chance of escape. So I decided to focus my research on some of the older books of the Restricted Section. As you know, the Library at Hogwarts offers such a selection of ancient volumes that even Dumbledore hasn't found the time to read."

Voldemort nodded, "What did you discover, Severus?"

Snape bent over and retrieved his bag from the floor. He pulled a thick stack of parchment out and handed several sheets to the Dark Lord.

"I found a rather arcane hereditary spell that allows a powerful Lord with no heir, to chose anyone to be his heir, even if that person expresses some reluctance."

Voldemort glanced at the sheets, "How is this revolutionary, Severus? We still practice many of these traditions today."

"I humbly disagree, for you see,"–the Potions Master paused to point out a particular note on the parchment—"This spell predates the foundation of Hogwarts." Voldemort dropped the papers in shock.

"Predates Hogwarts! What exactly does the spell do?"

"Exactly as I have said: Potter will become your heir. You must remember, my Lord, before Hogwarts, there existed no formal system of magical education, and the power of the wizarding world was in the hands of select families. A ruling Lord was responsible for educating his heir to take his place."

Severus rose from his chair and slipped into his familiar professorial role. "Say, perhaps, a Lord found a suitable heir, but the child was unwilling, he could cast this spell. The child would be bound to his new master–"

"Like enslavement?" Voldemort had returned to looking over Severus' notes.

"No, my Lord, the heir would retain the same rights as before. The bond is similar to unbreakable vow, but it is not a vow. Instead it is an unbreakable contract between the Lord and the heir. The Lord pledges to protect, to teach, and to care for the child. The heir pledges to be obedient and study under his Lord until he is of age."

"How can Potter pledge this if he is so reluctant?"

"It is the nature of the spell to force the heir's acquiescence."

"So it is a dark spell then?"

"Most certainly."

"Will it work on the boy?"

Severus understood immediately what the Dark Lord was really asking. Would the connection between the two wands be a problem? Snape shook his head, "No, you are not forcing the wands to duel. You will be able to cast this spell, just as you have been able to cast the Cruciatus Curse on Potter."

Silence fell as Severus waited for an answer. The Dark Lord shuffled through the papers, carefully reading about the spell. Finally he glanced up at the Potions Master.

"My, my Severus, well at least it isn't as complicated as it could be. We still need to find someone proficient in an ancient form of Latin as well as a sample of Potter's blood. Any suggestions?"

Snape nodded and spoke, "If you will forgive me, my Lord, I already took the liberty to make arrangements with young Draco Malfoy to help me obtain the blood. As for a Latin speaker, you need look no further than myself."

"A true Renaissance man, aren't you?" Voldemort mused, "I suppose that does make this process a trifle less problematic. How soon will you have the blood?"

"Within the week, my Lord."

"Very well. If this works, you will be rewarded most handsomely, Severus."

"I'm confident it will. Thank you, my Lord." Dismissed, Severus gathered his notes and put them back into the bag, which he shouldered. He nodded in the Dark Lord's direction before taking his leave.

Alone, Voldemort stood to settle into a more comfortable chair by the fire. He relaxed in the heat that bathed over him as he sipped a conjured glass of brandy. Briefly he held up the drink in a mock salute. "To you, Harry Potter, and the task of inspiring your loyalty."


	2. Chapter 2

***A profit from this story would be excellent, but regretfully I am not receiving one, for Harry Potter does not belong to me. **

Chapter Two

As he slipped his trainers on, Harry Potter knew it was going to be a bad day. The Welcoming Feast the night before had been less than pleasant for the fifteen-year old. While Ron was able to eat with his usual gusto, Harry was put off his meal by the stares of the entire student body. He was used to this treatment, but these students were not simply curious. He knew they were trying to decide if Harry was as crazy as the Ministry painted him to be.

Honestly! How could they be so easily swayed by the _Prophet_? And what ever happened to unbiased journalism?

After the meal, Harry had followed his two best friends up the maze-like passages to Gryffindor Tower where he collapsed into bed. Unfortunately, nightmares interrupted his sleep again.

"They were happening more frequently," he thought to himself. Maybe he should take Hermione's advice and talk with Dumbledore. Pulling his robes on he nodded. That's what he would do. After all, that was what he should have done _last_ year when his scar was bothering him. Maybe then Voldemort wouldn't have come back. Maybe then Cedric wouldn't have died.

Harry shook his head to clear that last bit away. He wouldn't let Cedric's death haunt him on the first day back; he had promised himself that. As he shuffled through his trunk for fresh parchment and quills the dormitory door opened and a red head peeked in.

"Harry mate, you up?" Ron asked. Harry turned around with his bag on his shoulder.

"Yeah, just had to get my things together. Where is everyone?"

"You looked like you needed a bit of a lie in. Although Hermione didn't agree. She nearly ran up here to wake you up."

"What stopped her?"

"The twins," he answered with a smirk, "It's against the rules for girls to be up here, and they of course had to remind her that she is a Prefect now. Has to set a good example for the younger lot and all that."

Harry couldn't help but grin, "Yeah but you're a Prefect too, Ron. Shouldn't you be with her setting a good example as well?"

Ron shook his head; "I figured I would go with a more relaxed approach to the rules. Maybe even get the first years to like me."

"So it's like a good cop bad cop routine?"

Ron's eyebrows curled up in confusion. "Uh?"

"Never mind. Just a muggle phrase."

"Oh right."

*******

Great Hall was packed with students by the time Harry and Ron got there, but Hermione waved them over to the two seats she had saved.

"It's not like you to sleep in on the first day Harry! Are you all right?" she asked passing a platter of eggs to Harry.

"I'm fine, Hermione. Just hungry." She seemed to accept this giving Harry a smile before turning her attention to the red head.

"I can't believe your brothers, Ron. They followed me all the way down here," she huffed angrily.

"That couldn't have been that bad Hermione," Ron said, "You like Fred and George."

"Well, not anymore. They wouldn't stop reciting the rules to me—as if they follow any! When I threatened to hex them into next week, they disappeared into some secret passage."

"Magic isn't allowed in the corridors, Hermione," Harry pointed out around the eggs in his mouth, but this was apparently the wrong thing to say.

"DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT? IT WAS A FIGURE OF SPEECH!" Hermione shouted while jumping up from the bench.

The whole student body quieted down noticing a ruckus at the Gryffindor table. Finding herself the center of attention, Hermione turned a delicate shade of red and gracefully took her seat. Harry glanced down the table and caught the Weasley twins snickering.

Conversations picked up again and the noise level increased. Harry took a piece of buttered toast from another platter and nibbled on it waiting for his friend to calm down. He and Ron exchanged glances. The red head just shrugged his shoulders and reached for more sausages, obviously not too concerned about their friend's outburst. Hermione let out another sigh looking slightly more composed.

"Oh, I forgot to give these to you both," she fished around in her bag before producing two fifth year timetables. Harry pushed his plate away as he grabbed for his.

"Ah bloody hell," Ron muttered next to him, holding up his schedule. Hermione gave him a sharp look but didn't say anything this time.

Harry quickly discovered the reason for Ron's swearing. Potions. With Snape. First thing. Today. "Bloody hell."

"Harry!"

"What Hermione? It's the only thing you can say. Honestly, who makes these schedules?"

"Well, at least we have a free period after class. It really isn't that bad."

Harry shot her a skeptical look. "Not the bad? I bet Gryffindor will be in negative points before the first class is over."

"Not good odds mate," Ron said.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, clearly surprised.

"No House has ever been in negative points."

Hermione nodded emphatically, "He's right. Chapter 63 in _Hogwarts, A History_ states that even though points may be taken away, somewhere, in another class, points are also being awarded. The closest case came in 1899 when Gryffindor lost 50 points in History of Magic when they only had 45 at the time. _But_ before the Professor could finish his sentence a fifth year demonstrated a proper _Aguamenti_ charm and received 5 points. Leaving them with 0."

Ron leaned over to Harry and whispered, "I bet she even knows what page that whole lot is on too."

Harry snorted as he reached for his pumpkin juice, but Hermione knocked his hand away.

"We need to leave."

"Hermione, we've still got some time," Ron said, clearly not finished with his breakfast.

"We do, but the first years have no idea where to go. I thought we could help them to Transfiguration," she said over her shoulder, making her way to the head of the table where the scrawny bunch sat.

"No one showed us where to go on our first day," Ron said around a bite.

"Yeah, it is character building to get lost the entire first week," Harry added.

*******

Somehow, Harry and Ron weren't sure how, Hermione beat them to the Potions classroom and had already spread out her parchment, quills, and textbooks. The boys shrugged at each other before dropping their bags on either side of her.

"First years all set, Mione?" Ron asked digging through his belongings.

"Yes, Ronald," the girl answered with some steel, "I appreciated your assistance. I'm Professor McGonagall would have as well if you had been there. Perhaps you would care to join me in walking them to Herbology later?"

Ron swallowed, "Sure Hermione. Love to." Harry hid a snickered and shook his head, setting out his own materials in preparation for the lesson.

"Mr. Potter!" Snape's voice rang out as he moved swiftly to the head of the room from the back, "Move to the front worktable. We will be working in pairs this semester. I realize that counting is an activity your overly inflated head cannot handle, but your Golden Trio makes three, not the desired two." Snape emphasize this by holding up two stained fingers before pointing at the table Harry was to go to. A table that was only occupied by…Draco Malfoy. Of course, the Potions Master would find a way to make this day worse.

Harry gathered his bag and walked the few feet forwards and dropped his things next to the Slytherin. Snape, who had been writing on the chalkboard, turned around. "Five points from Gryffindor for disrupting class."

Harry opened his mouth to argue but Snape cut him off, "I could make it ten if you would rather?"

"No sir," Harry said glowering. The Potions Master smirked before continuing at the board. Harry finished organizing his materials. As he picked up his quill Malfoy leaned over to whisper, "Nice going, Potter." Harry shot a look at the blonde but didn't say anything.

Snape set the chalk down and addressed the class. "As I am sure the summer will have taken away any potential you dunderheads have in this class we will begin the term reviewing relatively simple material and then move onto more complicated topics. That being said, today you will be preparing Pepper-up potions: a mixture easy enough to start but particularly volatile at the finish. So do keep your wits about you." His eyes lingered on the Gryffindors making Harry want to roll his eyes. "The directions and ingredients are on the board. Get to work!"

The class split up, some moving to the storage cabinet to get their supplies while others prepared the workspace. Harry looked over at Malfoy who glared back at him. "Well get to it, Potter. The toad eyes won't come here by themselves."

"Ever thought about being useful and doing it yourself, Malfoy?" Harry pushed his stool back to stand up.

The blonde shook his head, "Not when those lesser than me are around."

Harry really did roll his eyes at the Slytherin this time. As he headed to the ingredients cabinet, under his breath he mumbled, "Ferret." He found what they needed quickly and returned to the table where Malfoy was adding water to a cauldron.

They settled into splitting up the prep work, neither talking nor looking at each other, and Harry found that Draco could be an easy partner as long as he didn't open his mouth. Just as they were getting ready to start the potion, Snape paused at their table while completing his rounds of the room. He inspected their ingredients and addressed Draco, " I'm glad to see your work is still satisfactory even with Potter as your partner."

Harry felt the blood rush to his face and bit his cheek to keep from responding. Malfoy smirked at the professor, "Thank you, sir."

Snape turned to Harry, "Pay attention Potter and perhaps you will learn something."

Before he could stop himself Harry said, "Maybe if I had a good teacher I would."

Snape's mouth pinched into a severe line. "Fifteen points from Gryffindor for your cheek. Watch your mouth or you will have detention for a week." He held the boy's eyes daring him to say something else. Harry struggled to calm down. He couldn't let Snape bait him! He closed his eyes and opened them to find the Potions Master wearing a nasty smile. "Continue with your potion," the man said walking over to the next pair.

Angry, Harry spun quickly to face the worktable. In his haste, his elbow caught the bowl of crushed moon leaves, knocking it to the floor by Malfoy's feet. The Slytherin looked down, "Great going, Potter! Clean it up before I call Professor Snape over here and show how you are sabotaging my potion!"

"It's not just your potion, Malfoy," Harry grumbled walking away. He returned with a rag and knelt down to mop up the ruined ingredient. Suddenly, Malfoy shifted, violently bringing his leg up, crashing his knee into Harry's nose. Harry gasped around the pain, feeling blood gush down his face. Catching his breath he jumped to his feet, swaying slightly.

"You bastard!" The whole dungeon quieted, "You did that on purpose!"

"Detention! Honestly Potter, what did I just say about watching your mouth?" Snape strode over from the other end of the classroom.

"But sir! Malfoy-"

"Why do you always insist on pointing your finger at others? For once admit your guilt, Potter," the professor silkily stated.

"It really was his fault though!"

"Enough! Do you really want detention until the end of the term? Here—" Snape thrust a handkerchief at him, "Clean yourself up. How you maintain such a slovenly appearance is beyond me. And the rest of you," Snape addressed the class, "the show's over. Continue your work."

Harry took the offered handkerchief and walked over to a sink to wet the cloth. Strangely, the Potions Master followed. Harry ignored the man knowing whatever he said now would just earn him more punishments. He cleaned the blood as best as he could, wincing slightly—Malfoy had really gotten him.

"If you are done?" Snape held his hand out for the used hanky, and Harry gave it back. "Go sit down and start copying this: I will not disrespect my Potions professor this year."

Harry gritted his teeth, "How many lines do you want?"

Snape paused, seemingly thinking over Harry's question, "Let's see how many you get to by tomorrow evening's detention."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes, I am preoccupied tonight."

Snape walked away still holding the handkerchief from the tips of his fingers. Harry shook his head as he returned to his table and took out some parchment. He ignored Malfoy as best as he could.

The rest of the period passed uneventfully. Harry helped clean up his and Malfoy's area and fell in step with Ron and Hermione when Snape dismissed class. Feeling Hermione's disappointed glare, Harry turned around to face her. "All right, Hermione. Just get it all out."

The girl sighed, "Honestly Harry, I don't understand how you could get into so much trouble on just the first day! This is not a good way to start the year."

Ron immediately jumped in to Harry's defense. "Come on, Mione! You can't blame Harry! Malfoy and Snape had it in for him the whole class."

Harry gave is his friend a smile. "Look, why don't we just forget about Potions for now, eh?"

At first Hermione seemed ready to chastise Harry some more, but her shoulders dropped in defeat and continued walking, muttering under her breath. They passed through the hallways quietly until an uproar from the Entrance Hall made them pause.

"What could that be?" Ron asked. They shared a brief look and hurried upwards.

A small crowd blocked the doors, preventing them from seeing what was going on. Harry followed Ron as the taller boy pushed his way forwards, muttering the whole time, "Ruddy first years. Can't be the first time they saw an enchanted castle. Just a bit of magic, nothing mo—" Ron abruptly cut off staring open mouthed, paling dramatically. At first Harry missed it, to intent on searching the crowd, but a flashing light caught his eye.

Gryffindor's points' counter was blinking ominously, and through the crowd's noise Harry could just make out a deep beeping sound not unlike a muggle security system. Above the empty hourglass a **-15 **glared brightly.

"Bloody Hell," Harry whispered, fervently wishing he had his invisibility cloak.

"Language, Harry." Hermione hissed. Ron continued to silently gape next to them.

"But Hermione look!" Harry pointed in case she had missed his latest mess up.

"In might not be…completely your fault," but the girl did not look convinced by her own logic.

The large door of the Great Hall opened and Dumbledore walked out with Professor McGonagall. He held up his hands and said, "May I have your attention please?" The hall quieted down as the students directed their eyes to the white haired wizard. "Thank you. While a certain amount of leniency is due on the first day, I must remind you all that the next class will begin soon. Carry on please, and we will do our best to clear up this confusion."

With much grumbling, the students slowly shuffled out of the Great Hall to their respective lessons. Harry stuck between his two best friends hoping to make it out unseen, but a quick jerk on his arm stopped all forward movement. He looked up to meet Professor McGonagall's eyes. "The Headmaster wishes to see you, Mr. Potter," she stated.

Before he followed her out, Harry saw Ron about to open his mouth when Hermione elbowed the red head in the side. He gave them a quick smile trying to say that everything would be all right, but he did not believe it himself.

He trailed Professor McGonagall through the hallways desperately hoping he wasn't about to get into even more trouble. Gryffindor in negative points! Would they send him home? Would Professor McGonagall take him off the team for this? Harry grimaced thinking about what Sirius' reaction would be when he found out. Snape was probably informing the marauder at this very moment about Gryffindor's latest disgrace.

"Laffy Taffy." Harry looked up to see they had reached the Headmaster's office. The stone gargoyle moved aside, and the duo stepped on to the moving staircase. The door was open, and Professor McGonagall led them inside. Not much had changed in Dumbledore's office since Harry had been there in June. Sunlight flooded in from the large windows, giving the room a bright and cheery feel. Unlike most of Harry's previous visits, the portraits of past headmasters were all awake and chatting quietly, eager to see what was happening. Dumbledore sat behind his desk with Snape already seated in front of him—both waiting for the arrivals.

"Come in, come in! Take a seat. Tea, Harry?" Dumbledore motioned to a tea service already filling the four cups on the tray.

"No thank you, sir." Harry wasn't quite sure he could stomach anything at this point. Dumbledore nodded and passed out the other cups to both professors before taking a sip of his own.

"Well then, I've spoken with Professor Snape about what transpired in this morning's class. He is quite adamant your punishment was well deserved. Since I know the lengths you two achieve in antagonizing each other I'm inclined to believe you are not completely innocent. However, I do not believe you are completely guilty either. Therefore, I am willing to negotiate your punishment. It is the first day of classes, and we do not want the year to start on a such a bad note for Gryffindor."

Snape looked up from his tea with a scowl on his face, "Headmaster—"

Dumbledore held up a hand, "Please Severus. As I was saying, Harry. The detentions will stand, but I will wave the point reduction for the time being. Prove you can get along with Professor Snape by performing well in your detentions, Harry, and you will no longer be on probation."

Harry nodded. A week of detention wouldn't be that bad. Snape would most likely set to him cleaning cauldrons and ignore him the entire time anyways.

"Excellent. Does that sound like a reasonable compromise, Severus?" Dumbledore looked over at the Potions Master. Snape returned his teacup to the tray and neatly folded his hands in his lap.

"Well, I suppose that is a _fair_ agreement for the-boy-who-lived. I cannot expect Harry Potter to be legitimately chastised."

Harry wanted to make a reply to Snape; he wanted to tell the man he wasn't spoiled and the fame didn't go to his head. In fact he didn't even want the fame! But one look from Dumbledore's sharp blue eyes had him leaning back in his seat with his mouth shut.

"Extenuating circumstances, Severus," Dumbledore stared at Snape a moment more but addressing McGonagall, "How do you feel about this arrangement, Minerva?"

"Sounds fair to me, Albus. Although, I hope in the future we can discuss the values of unbiased teaching in the classroom," said the Transfiguration professor. Harry shivered a little at the look she was currently directing at Snape, a look Snape refused to acknowledge. The Headmaster cleared his throat. "A chat for another time. Well, now that we've gotten this unpleasantness out of the way, why don't you continue onto Charms, Harry? I'm sure if you walk briskly you will not be late for role."

Dismissed, Harry picked up his bag and headed out. The office was silent after the door clicked shut. McGonagall let out a sigh and looked at Snape. "Harry isn't completely at fault, is he, Severus?"

Snape held her eye for a moment before fluidly rising to his feet. "I do not appreciate your insinuations, Minerva. If we are done I must be off to make sure no incompetent child had obliterated my dungeons."

The Potions Master bowed his head at both his superiors before sweeping silently from the room. McGonagall shrewdly watched his exit. She couldn't place her finger on it, but she knew Snape was planning something and that something had to do with Harry Potter. Yet the only reason Snape would have anything to do with Harry Potter was if he was forced to. Albus would have no reason to see Harry in trouble, so that could only mean Snape was acting under some order of Voldemort. Her eyes widened at this realization.

"Albus, is Harry quite safe at the castle? You're sure no one can hurt him?"

The Headmaster's eyebrows furled at the question. "He will of course sustain the various cuts and bruises a boy his age frequently accumulates, but other than that? I am reasonably confident Harry is secure. Why the sudden concern?"

She shook her head, "Just a feeling I suppose."

"Indeed. Well, since you are here, Minerva, perhaps we could discuss the possibility of adding an Animagus class to the curriculum?"

Distracted from her current train of thought, the Transfiguration instructor immediately laid into the Headmaster about extremely advanced magic, the perils of not enough supervision, and inadequate attempts to reverse permanent bodily alterations.

Author's Note: I usually do not care for hearing an author prattle, but I MUST say a large "thank you" to everyone who took the time to review. It was exciting and terrifying to see what you all had to say. Also, thank you to everyone who put this story either under his/her favorites or on alert. Such affirmation is very much appreciated. :)


	3. Chapter 3

***These characters are not mine and will never be mine—sad day.**

Chapter Three

True to Dumbledore's word, Harry arrived just as Flitwick opened the attendance role. Acknowledging the Charms Professor as his name was called, Harry slipped in the seat saved for him between Ron and Hermione. Ron leaned over and asked, "Everything okay?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I still have the detentions, but Dumbledore gave us the points back."

Ron flashed him a relieved look. A nudge from Hermione quieted them both, and they turned their attention to the front as Flitwick's squeaky voice began his lecture on Ordinary Wizarding Level Charms.

"Now students, this year will be very challenging for you all. Not only will the coursework become harder, but you all must participate in OWL's at the end of the year to qualify for the more advanced classes Hogwarts has to offer." Flitwick continued on in this vein as Ron and Harry pulled out a sheet of parchment to start a game of tic-tac-toe. Ending in draw, they amused themselves by doodling Malfoy and Snape in varying states of bodily harm. When he finished his drawing, Harry took out his wand and poked in the parchment. He whispered, "_Animus exitium_," to a drawing of Snape stirring a potion. The penciled Snape continued his actions until quite suddenly the cauldron exploded, and the Potions Master was covered in soot.

"Well done, mate," Ron admired, "Take a look at this!" Harry leaned over to watch Malfoy repeatedly fall off his broomstick in the Quidditch Pitch. Ron had even charmed the figure to quietly announce every time he fell, "I'm a prat!"

Harry snickered, causing several students and the Professor to look back at him.

"Mr. Potter," Flitwick called out, "perhaps you could demonstrate a proper Summoning Charm for us?"

"Sure, Professor," flashing a smile at his friends, Harry walked to the front of the room. Once in place he took a deep breath and said confidently, "_Accio book_!" As _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 5)_ flew unwaveringly toward him, Harry felt much better since waking up.

*******

Later on at dinner, several Gryffindors rounded on Harry to find out his version of what happened during Potions. They were happy to hear that Gryffindor was no longer in negative points but many shook their heads when Harry said he was still punished.

"Snape for an entire week. That is rotten luck," Dean said, Seamus nodded emphatically next to him.

"I say," Seamus piped in, "you should just hex him the next time he decides to pick on you." Several other Gryffindors within hearing loudly agreed and threw out different strategies Harry could use. Hair Vanishing spells were suggested, as well as some questionable uses of Transfiguration. When someone mentioned _Riddikulus_ Hermione jumped in. "That only works for Dark creatures like Boggarts."

"Ain't he one though?" asked Fred as the twins walked over. The group roared and received a particularly nasty glare from the professor himself sitting up at the Head table.

"Remember third year with Neville and the Boggart?" Seamus asked. Several of the younger years shook their heads, and the Scot was off effectively shifting the attention off Harry to himself. George and Fred sat down across from Ron, Hermione, and Harry.

"Harry, we wanted to extend our congratulations on making it into _Hogwarts, A History_," George said smiling.

"What?"

Fred took over, "You got Gryffindor into negatives! A feat that has never before been achieved—despite no lack of trying."

Hermione shook her head, "Harry didn't mean to do that, and you two are not helping the matter." She jabbed her fork at the twins.

They smiled at each other and one said, "You know, Miss Prefect, it is against the rules to threaten another student with cutlery."

His twin spoke up, "Yeah, we might have to report you to our Head."

"Your Head! I'll show you your Head!" Hermione shouted making to jump over table. The twins shot up from their seats and sprinted out of the Great Hall—with Hermione hot on their heels.

Harry and Ron watched them leave. The red head sighed and dished out more dessert on his plate. "I should probably stop her from doing something she will regret later on."

"Nah, let her get it out of her system."

They ate contentedly until Ron said, "All in all, it was an interesting day back."

Harry agreed, "Yeah, so far at least."

"Want to get a group together for a game of Exploding Snap?"

"Maybe we should start on Snape's essay or Flitwick's practical."

"We can wait until Hermione is done with the twins."

*******

Far away from Hogwarts, a figure stood over a shimmering cauldron in the center of a large room. Another person could just barely be seen leaning against the wall in the shadows. Easily recognizable by the lanky hair framing his face, Severus Snape closely evaluated the concoction as he steadily stirred in a counter-clockwise direction. His lips moved but no sound could be heard in the vast chamber. Intent on his work, the Potions Master did not react to the shifting of logs in the fireplace at the end of the room nor the impatient rustling of his companion's robes. At long last, he straightened to his full height and nodded to the Dark Lord.

Voldemort glided over holding a bloodied handkerchief. He looked inquiringly at Snape, "This part does not need to be spoken in Ancient Latin?"

"No, my Lord. Just during the potion's preparation. In this state, the potion is stable and the caster can speak in any language he or she wishes."

"Very well." Voldemort stepped properly in front of the cauldron and began to speak. Magic laced throughout his words as he invoked the binding. "Harry James Potter I name you my heir and apprentice. Harry James Potter I call you to come and learn from me while I shelter you. Harry James Potter I unite your magic with my own. Harry James Potter I bind you to me."

With that he dropped the handkerchief. The potion immediately became a swirling contrast of brilliant green and bloody red. Smoke floated out of the cauldron and coated the floor. Still staring at the potion the Dark Lord asked, "Now what, Severus?"

"Now we wait for your guest, my Lord."

*******

Harry James Potter sat up in bed panting heavily. He was out of breath, and he suspected it had to do with the dream he just had about Voldemort. Harry shook his head trying to remember, but the details of the dream slipped through his mind like sand through a sieve. Maybe the dream was just a dream this time and nothing more. No, he needn't bother Dumbledore at this time of night.

Yet Harry felt distinctly uneasy. Some part of him knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Voldemort was up to something. Harry swallowed quickly; perhaps a cup of water would help him feel better.

But before he could even reach to put on his glasses, he felt a sharp jerk at his navel. At first it felt like a port key, but then he felt a terrible constricting sensation all around him. The dorm room began to fade away as Harry was pulled and squeezed to another location.


	4. Chapter 4

***Este cuento es mío, pero las personas? No son mías….que barbaridad. **

Chapter Four

Harry's feet slammed into the ground. He was only able to maintain his balance for a second before he fell forward on his hands and knees, feeling incredibly nauseous. The stone floor he rested on was bitterly cold, but Harry didn't move. The room was still lurching around, and he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to throw up or not. He took a couple of deep breaths before trying to lift up his head.

Unable to grab his glasses before he was taken, Harry couldn't completely make out the room he was currently in. From his vantage point he could tell that it was a well-lit, large space. What appeared to be bookshelves lined the walls only to be broken by a seemingly massive fireplace on the right wall. Harry squinted at the blurry shapes in front of the flickering light and decided they were furniture of some sort.

As he slowly got to his feet, he was pretty sure a large desk stood in the back of the room, but that was as far as his limited vision allowed him to see. He stood shakily on his feet for moment. When he was sure he could walk without falling he started to move forward hopefully towards a chair. Suddenly a voice—from the direction of the fireplace—spoke up.

"I'm pleased you could make it here safely, Mr. Potter."

Harry's head snapped towards the speaker. "Snape," he growled.

A large blur got up from a chair-like shape and approached him rather predatorily. "That's _Professor_ Snape to you, Potter. Some pretense of respect must still be upheld."

With more important matters to bring up—namely what kind of trouble he was in—Harry decided to ignore Snape's remark. "Where are we?"

Instead of answering the Potions Master turned away from him. Harry started to call him back when he heard a door opening behind him. Immediately he hit his knees again as a searing pain threatened to split his forehead into two.

Voldemort was here.

Dark robes entered his line of sight as the most evil wizard in Great Britain stepped over him. Harry heard a chuckle as the man passed.

"It appears our guest requires assistance. Why don't we give it to him?" Hands snaked through Harry's arms, and then suddenly he was back on his feet—rather unsteadily—held up by what appeared to be two Death Eaters.

Voldemort's blurry shape turned around to walk towards the trapped Gryffindor. Harry tried to shift away, but the Death Eaters held him fast. As Voldemort got closer and closer, he was sure the entire room could hear his heart pounding faster than a hippogriff could run. But Voldemort appeared to be content with just looking at him. Since death didn't seem to be too evident Harry allowed himself to marginally relax. Voldemort took that as his cue to begin. "No glasses, Harry? We'll have to remedy that. I wouldn't want to begin while you cannot see properly. Wormtail!"

The door behind Harry opened again and a scurrying figure darted in, threw himself at Voldemort's feet, and said, "You called, my Lord?"

Voldemort nodded, "Go to Hogwarts. Bring back Harry's glasses and wand. Be quick about it!" With no ado Wormtail bolted from the room, silence descending in his departure. Seemingly with nothing to say, Voldemort walked away from the strange trio Harry had found himself in.

Hopefully someone would notice Wormtail in his dormitory snooping around. Maybe after all that had happened last year Dumbledore had even placed special wards around Gryffindor Tower that would alert him if an Animagus had entered. But what if Voldemort was successful? What plans did the maniac have for him? An involuntary shiver ran down Harry's spine at the possibilities.

"Are you cold, Harry? Where have my manners gone?" Voldemort approached him again and flicked his wand. Harry flinched but instead of bodily harm, he found himself encased in a rich, brilliant green dressing gown. Immediately, Harry felt himself warming up, not realizing just how cold he was before. "You're welcome," Voldemort smirked.

The Dark Lord walked back to the fire and gazed into it just as Snape was doing. They appeared to be talking quietly with each other, but Harry couldn't make out what they were saying. They were probably plotting his demise or something of that nature, but he wished they wouldn't draw this whole business out. He knew the whole reason Voldemort brought him to this location was to kill him. It was like hesitating to remove a bandage; in the end it was better just to rip it off quickly.

"Why?"

"Why what, Harry?" Voldemort left the fire and walked over to him.

"Why do you want to kill me? Why did you kill my parents? Why bring me here? Why make me feel more comfortable?" Harry could feel all the questions he had ever wanted to ask build up instead of him ready to come out.

"Why indeed…" but before Voldemort could answer—if he was even going to—the door opened once more. Wormtail ran across the room and fell again at the Dark Lord's feet. "Were you successful?"

"Yes, Master," Wormtail held up the requested items without ceremony.

"Good." Voldemort took what Wormtail had to offer. Harry's scar throbbed as Voldemort walked up to him and placed his glasses on his nose. The world snapped back into focus, and Harry found himself face to face with the man who had haunted his dreams for the past three and a half months. "There now, Harry. We've delayed long enough."

Voldemort backed away to pace around the room as he talked. "I suppose you have Severus to thank for tonight. It was him who discovered the rather unique spell that has brought you to us—"

"And what spell was that?" Harry interjected. He felt bold knowing there were probably his moments.

"You know it is very rude to interrupt someone while he is talking? I will answer your question, Harry, because I want to encourage your curiosity in magic, but I will not stand for further discourtesy." He paused, obviously waiting for Harry to speak up. But, Harry kept silent, refusing to rise to the bait. Voldemort smirked back at Snape. "Not as Gryffindor as you say, Severus. But we are digressing."

Voldemort resumed walking around the room, clasping his hands behind his back, adopting a contemplative pose. "As you may know from your History of Magic class, Hogwarts has not always been around to teach young witches and wizards magic. Simply put, instruction took place in the home, and a family's legacy was very important. We, of course, still see this today with the opinions of the purebloods, but that is a topic for another time. Where was I?"

"Magical instruction, my Lord," Snape answered with a strange glint in his eye. Harry got the distinct impression there was something in this situation he was missing completely.

"Yes, thank you, Severus. You see Harry, an heir carried on the family name and power. However, a powerful family would, from time to time, find itself without someone to carry on the legacy. Desperate times often lead to desperate means and a desperate remedy was created. Many years before Hogwarts was established, several families worked together using their best mages to produce a binding spell—a spell that allowed the castor to choose an heir of no blood relation and bind the child to him or her. Thus a loyal heir would be produced." He paused and Harry took that as permission to talk.

"What if he doesn't want to be the heir? How could he still be loyal?" Harry was starting to get the feeling that death wasn't eminent and shuddered as Voldemort smiled. These were obviously questions Voldemort _wanted_ Harry to ask.

"Have you ever heard of Dark magic, Harry?" Voldemort asked sarcastically, "Just because an heir is opposed to the master's goals doesn't mean he cannot force the child to do what he wants. You will find that this is _exactly_ what I have done in your case. Although binding spells are questionable in nature. Most wizards are reluctant to be tied that closely to another person."

"Then why do this?"

"Because I am a Slytherin. I get what I want, and what I want is you."

Harry shook his head and shifted a little on his feet causing the guards flanking him to tighten their grip making him wince. "What if I don't cooperate? What if I don't want to be here?"

Voldemort chuckled, "That doesn't matter in the slightest. Although I'm a little put out you are less than enthusiastic to stay."

Harry frowned, "Why doesn't it matter?"

"Haven't you been listening, Harry? This particular spell does not require your acquiescence. All I needed was your blood; I'm sure you remember your little scene with Draco Malfoy in class today? I know _I_ enjoyed watching Severus' memories of the incident," Voldemort smirked at Harry's grimace and continued, "Also, since I am a strong castor, chanting the spell was not great difficulty."

The Dark Lord stopped right in front of Harry and grabbed Harry's chin with his right hand. Harry gasped at the pain this caused and felt his eyes starting to water. "Let me have your full attention, Harry Potter." Voldemort stared right into his eyes, and Harry found he couldn't look away. "You are bound to me, Harry. It is an irreversible bond and cannot be broken."

Harry was sure he wouldn't have been still standing if the two Death Eaters were not there. Bound? How in the world could that even be possible? Voldemort had taken Harry right out of Hogwarts. Hogwarts! A place he was supposed to be safe. Now look where he had ended up. Harry closed his eyes feeling the panic within him rising to hysteria levels.

"I'm sure you are tired, but I must explain the bond so it doesn't hurt you."

Harry gave a short hysterical laugh, "Hurt me? Maybe you shouldn't have—"

He was cut off by a sharp slap to the face. His pain was two fold; warmth spread across his cheek and his scar flared from the contact with Voldemort.

"You will not disrespect me, Harry. Treat this as a final warning because I can guarantee you do not want to experience my discipline." He stopped before Harry perhaps waiting for a response. Harry did nothing except take a couple of deep breaths, hoping to gain some control over his heart rate. Voldemort started talking again, "You are here to stay, Harry, bound to me until you come of age. If you try to leave your body will start shutting down. The heir needs the physical presence of the master to live."

"I can't leave here until I'm seventeen? You'll kill me before the week is out!"

Voldemort smirked, "I can assure you I wouldn't have gone to this much trouble just to kill you. Anyways the bond won't let me kill you. Make no mistake," he looked into Harry's eyes, "I can still punish you if the occasion arises. I just cannot kill you….until you are seventeen."

Harry swallowed, "What do you mean I will die if I leave?" He was starting to feel sick again and did not like the direction this conversation was going.

"We are tied together now, Harry. Our magic is connected."

"If I left, would you die too?"

Voldemort gave Harry another smirk, "Ready to sacrifice yourself for the greater good? Nice try but since I am the Master of the bond—the one who created it—I will not be affected. Now because I know you feel the need to embrace your idiotic Gryffindor tendencies from time to time, I think it would be better to restrict your movements to the Manor—just for the beginning. We wouldn't want you running off, would we?"

Harry squirmed in the tight grip that held him as Voldemort came to stand properly in front of him. "How are you going to do that?"

"I'm just going to give you something that will physically prevent you from leaving. Perhaps later on it will be ring or a bracelet, but for now, I feel you need something a tad more drastic to remind you of your place."

"More drastic?" Harry tried harder to escape, throwing himself against the Death Eaters. Behind Voldemort, he could see Snape watching the proceedings with his usual disinterest. The Potions Master didn't appear at all concerned that Voldemort was perhaps going to maim him.

"Oh yes, Harry, more drastic," Voldemort raised his wand to point at Harry, "Now I would tell you to hold still but it really does not matter. Shall we?" Voldemort muttered an incantation that Harry recognized as a mixture of Latin and Parselmagic, but he was trying too hard to get away to properly pay attention to what it all meant.

A beam of gold light flew out of Voldemort's wand just as Harry shut his eyes. It hit him but strangely enough didn't hurt. Instead, something warm coiled around his neck and settled there.

"There," Voldemort surveyed his creation with some satisfaction and let out a sigh, "I suppose that we have had enough excitement for tonight. Severus would you be so kind as to show Harry where he will be staying?"

"It would be my pleasure." Harry opened his eyes to find that Snape had joined Voldemort and was now looking at Harry with some intensity. He broke off his examination, snapped his fingers at the Death Eaters, and bid the Dark Lord a goodnight. Before they led Harry out of the room, Voldemort said, "I look forward to beginning your studies tomorrow, Harry."

Not having a reply, Harry just stared into the Dark Lord's red eyes. The Death Eaters quietly ushered him into the passageway where Snape was waiting, and the door closed, breaking his eye contact. Harry shook his head and looked over at the Potions Master. Seeing he had Harry's attention, Snape turned on his heel and set a brisk pace away from Voldemort's study. It was quiet as the four of them trekked through the Manor. Harry didn't pay attention to their route; his head was spinning with everything that had just taken place.

"You've gotten rather quiet, Potter," Snape said without looking at Harry, "Have we already taken the fight out of you? My, my and I had thought our work was cut out for us."

Harry could feel his anger rising, but this time it was closer to the hysteria he felt earlier. How come everything always seemed to happen to him?

"Why do you care, Snape?" The Potions Master stopped walking and turned around to address the shorter boy. Harry bit his lip; Snape was a lot taller than he remembered him being.

"Oh Potter, it is still _Professor_ Snape. After all, I will be one of your tutors."

"And what will you be teaching me? How to murder innocent children?" Harry was surprised to find himself blinking back tears. Snape's face lost its humored appearance, and a cold mask slid into place.

"Hold him tightly please," he addressed the two Death Eaters. Harry was pushed roughly against a wall and pinned there. Snape grabbed his hair making Harry gasp. The Potions Master quickly shoved a vial to Harry's mouth and forced the boy to swallow. Once he made sure Harry had in fact consumed the potion he said, "Let's continue to the boy's chambers."

"What was that?" Harry sputtered as they starting walking again.

"Just something to curb your attitude."

Harry was tugged along, but before he could think any more about what Snape had just forced down his throat they stopped in front of a nondescript door. Snape pulled out his wand and after moving it in a rather complicated pattern the door opened. He led the way in, closely followed by the Death Eaters.

"You both can leave us. I wish to talk with him," Snape waved out the two men, and the door closed behind them. "Sit down, Potter, you look dead on your feet."

Normally, the snide remark would have set Harry off, but he felt strangely ambiguous towards the Potions Master. For once he obeyed the man and fell on the bed. Harry glanced around, taking in where they were.

The room was plain but spacious. It was obvious that all the furniture was finely made, but there was nothing extravagant or ostentatious. Two windows framed the bed Harry was laying on. The bed itself took up the center of the room. Off to his right was a medium-sized writing desk and to the left of the desk stood a large, empty bookcase. Another door separated the bookcase from a small sitting area that had two chairs facing a fireplace where a fire was already crackling. On the other side of the door they had entered was a large wardrobe and dresser. Not surprisingly the duvet and drapes were green, but it was a bright green that nearly matched Harry's eyes. The sheets and rugs were a cream color that complimented the green nicely.

"Are you quite finished gawking, Potter?" Harry turned back to Snape and saw that the man had made himself comfortable in one of the chairs before the fireplace. He gestured over to Harry, "Come and sit."

Again Harry found himself obeying Snape and sat into the indicated chair. Snape tapped the table between them with his wand and two mugs appeared. He picked one up and blew some of the steam off the surface of the liquid and took a sip. Harry peered into his own cup and found hot chocolate.

"Drink, Potter. Chocolate has many healing properties." Harry grabbed the mug and lifted it to his mouth. The chocolate was warm and rich; a combination Harry would never correlate with anything Snape had offered him before. They sat together drinking in an almost companionable silence. Harry began to wonder if Snape intended to talk with him after all. He was taken by surprise when the man broke the quiet.

"Potter, I know your Slytherin instincts are non-existent or at best severely lacking, but try to understand the opportunity presented here. One of the greatest wizards of our time has selected you to be his pupil—his only pupil."

"But at Hogwarts I was with Professor Dumbledore!"

"Dumbledore kept you at arms length and could care less what trouble you and your cohorts found yourselves in. The Dark Lord will be a good teacher for you. If you do not allow your Gryffindor hot-headedness to block your learning."

If he weren't so tired, Harry would have jumped to his feet or at least stormed away from the Potions Master. As it was, his limbs didn't want to leave the overstuffed chair. He was, however, able to muster up some indignation. "But it's Voldemort—"

"DO NOT speak his name!" Harry jumped in his seat.

"Fear of the name—"  
"Spare me the Headmaster's incessant foolishness. We are no longer at Hogwarts, ergo I no longer need to maintain my farce of loyalty. There are some things Dumbledore does not understand," Snape paused to take a breath, "I empathize with your reluctance to spend prolonged amounts of time with the Dark Lord, but," here he spoke slowly as if Harry was a child, "it is in your best interests to not fight this."

"Not fight! Are you daft? What should I do?"

Snape left his chair to stand in front of Harry. "Learn. Enjoy a time where the fate of the Wizarding World is not on your shoulders." A sneer passed over Snape's lips. He obviously mocked the general opinion that saw this boy as a savior.

"What about Vol—I mean You-Know-Who? He wants me to be his heir!"

Snape's face remained impassive, "Yes, he does."

"But, I don't want to be!" Harry felt himself getting worked up again. Whatever Snape had given him was wearing off.

"Well, it cannot be changed now. You are here to stay, Potter, as the Dark Lord put it. Wrap your inflexible mind around it, and do so quickly," he dug into his pocket for a moment and pulled out a vial, "Take this before bed. A house elf will be along to escort you to brunch in the morning." With that Snape straightened and made for the door. Harry didn't leave his seat and continued to stare into the fire, barely hearing the door close softly. He wasn't sure how he was going to sleep that night; too much had taken place that night and he was reeling. But he was troubled by one question he couldn't find an answer for: how could this have happened?

**Author's Note: How the dickens do people update so quickly? I'm exhausted and all I had to do was get this chapter into my computer as I had handwritten everything earlier. Anyways, we are now leaving known territory and sailing into uncharted waters for this chapter was as far as I got in planning out **_**Inspiring Loyalty**_**. Fear not! I DO know where the story will end. I just need to write the chapters that connect from here to there. So, although we don't have a course in mind, we at least have a destination! Thank you for the support and for reading! **


	5. Chapter 5

***He regresado! JKR still owns HP…last time I checked. **

Chapter Five

Severus Snape swept through the manor hallways quickly. He had stayed with Potter longer than he initially planned on. Just as he was about to enter his quarters his Dark Mark flared briefly—the Dark Lord wanted an audience. Holding back the sigh he desperately wanted to let out, Snape back pedaled and headed to his Master's study. Having just left the Dark Lord's audience two hours before he wasn't quite sure what the man wanted to talk about. Surely it wouldn't be a social call at this time of night. He knocked lightly when he arrived.

"Enter."

Pushing the door open, Snape found the Dark Lord situated behind his desk leafing through a few parchments. The Potions Master recognized them immediately as his own recommendations of which Death Eaters Potter would be most responsive to as instructors.

"Please sit down, Severus. I'm sorry to trouble you, it is late after all, but I wanted to finish this before we begin tomorrow."

Snape brows knit together, "I thought you wanted to give the boy a day of acclimation."

"Yes, that was my original idea, but I decided that it might not be for the best. A day of no activity would give Harry the opportunity to set himself against being here and learning. Maybe if we jump right in we can nip his rebelliousness in the bud."

Snape nodded; all that the Dark Lord said was probably true.

"I'm glad you think so as well. Now about your proposals…I agree with your suggestion that Harry should have only a handful of teachers. Naturally I want you to be the boy's main focus. Would it be too much for you, to handle the core of Harry's magical studies?"

"I do not believe so, my Lord. I received top NEWT scores in every subject."

"Good. Moving on, I was surprised by your strong feelings of exposing Harry to a feminine influence, but after some thought I found your reasoning to be sound. So I think Victoria Lochrin would work well for swordsmanship and dueling lessons, with your assistance in the latter of course."

Snape looked over the parchment and nodded briefly, "Madam Lochrin is quite formidable with a sword, and Potter will surely underestimate her while dueling. No don't his chivalry will come into untimely play. "

"Excellent, those were my thoughts exactly. That is a good start. When Harry feels up to it we can begin some Wizarding Culture lessons. I'm sure Lucius would be more than happy to lend a hand."

"I'm sure he would," Snape muttered.

"After he has had a few months to adjust, I will take over the bulk of Harry's lessons while you and Madam Lochrin will provide supplemental learning. Finally, I should like to meet with Harry every evening after supper starting tomorrow."

"To what purpose, my Lord?"

"Simply to get to know the boy more. I believe a lesser man would call it familial bonding."

*******

Harry watched the fire until the wood had completely broken up and all that was left was shimmering embers and sighed—nothing would be accomplished by staring into a fire. He placed his half-filled mug back on the little table—where it popped out of existence—and got up. His eyes flickered back and forth between the bed (which look incredibly inviting) and the door (which looked locked…if he knew Voldemort). Feeling that, on principle, he just couldn't accept his imprisonment lying down, Harry walked over to the door. He tugged on the handle, but sure enough the door did not budge. Not surprised, but feeling slightly more satisfied that he at least thought about escaping, Harry moved towards the bed.

As he pulled off the robe Voldemort had conjured up, Harry spotted the potion vial Snape had left on the table. He grabbed it and brought it over to the bed. The liquid was a lilac color and shimmered in the fate light emitting from the fireplace. With a jolt Harry realized he knew this potion! Taking the stopper out and sniffing it confirmed this. Dreamless Sleep, Snape had given him a vial of Dreamless Sleep. That didn't make sense; why would Snape want to do something nice for him?

Harry didn't understand it. Ever since he had arrived at this place, Snape had been acting like the same snarky git he always was. Yet the conversation they just had was the most civil interaction the two had _ever _had, and it was so unexpected Harry didn't hold out hope for a repeat. Despite all his appearances, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that Snape actually wanted to _help_ him. In full reflection mode, Harry realized this wasn't the first time the professor would be lending him aid. Snape _had_ saved his life in his first quidditch match; maybe he was still trying to make up the life debt he owed his father. Nonetheless, Harry refused to believe Snape's motives could be explained _that_ easily.

Shaking his head Harry downed the potion in one swallow. He put the empty vial on a bedside table and slipped between the cream colored sheets. They were soft, better than what he had at the Dursleys but still didn't compare to Hogwarts. Finding a comfortable spot, Harry gave into the drowsiness wishing he were back in his tower.

*******

Ron was shaking him awake again. Two days in a row; what an awful way to start the year! But when did Ron's hands become so small? Harry came around to find himself looking into two very large eyes.

"Whoa!" He jumped to the other side of bed. The house elf, obviously in charge of getting him up, squeaked and immediately ducked down out of sight.

"Bizzy is sorry Master Harry Potter! Bizzy is to wake youse up. Master Harry Potter is to be ready for eating."

Identifying his alarm clock and realizing there was no danger at all, Harry leaned over to take in the cowering creature. Bizzy was about the same size as Dobby and dressed in an immaculate Slytherin green pillowcase. Harry could make out a silver crest on one side, but the house elf stood too far away to confirm what it was. He had his suspicions though knowing who Voldemort was.

"If sir wants to take a shower, Bizzy can set clothes out for Master Harry Potter."

Harry frowned and asked, "What clothes?" He was almost positive Voldemort hadn't transported his truck here as well. Perhaps something had been arranged. Sure enough the house elf walked to the wardrobe and opened it to reveal several robes. Harry got out of bed to survey them. Just like the room, the robes were plain. Mostly black, Harry also made out a few green as well as one red robe—much to Harry's surprise. He rubbed the nearest sleeve between his thumb and finger finding the material silky and probably well made (he, unlike Malfoy, wasn't an expert in these matters).

"Is that the robe youse be wanting to be wearing, Master Harry?" The house elf was nervously wringing her hands, perhaps thinking Harry might be upset.

"Sure, why not? You said something about a shower?"

Bizzy jumped up and down, "Oh yes Master Sir! That room there be the shower! Go Master and Bizzy be getting everythings ready."

At Bizzy's insistence, Harry found himself in the bathroom holding a fluffy towel and dressing gown. He closed the door and looked around. It was a nice room, not too spacious, but more than adequate for one teenage wizard. The color scheme stayed true to the bedroom although in here they were muted as if the room carried a permanent fog. Harry stepped up to the mirror and took a moment to take in his appearance. Nothing had really changed; he looked tired, but that was to be expected after the events of last night. He pulled his pajama shirt off to take a look at the necklace Voldemort had spelled on him last night.

It was made out of bright gold. While it didn't choke him, the necklace fit snugly around his neck, and even though it could be taken for jewelry, Harry firmly believed it was fashioned more as a collar than anything. The chain was thick and with its tightly interlocked links, the necklace's overall appearance was snakelike. Harry gave an uncomfortable shudder at the thought that he really had a golden snake coiled around his neck.

He pealed off the rest of his pajamas and turned on the shower, relishing in the warm temperature of the water. As he soaped up, his thoughts turned to all the vents that had transpired so far. Voldemort had certainly been much nicer than on their previous encounters. Of course, even a slap to the face—literally—was better than the way Voldemort had treated him the last time they were together. How was this going to work? Voldemort teaching him magic. Would he be forced to learn illegal curses? Would Voldemort make him use Dark Magic against his friends? Harry sighed. He found that while he was uncomfortable with Voldemort as a teacher, he was actually more uncomfortable with not knowing what his future looked like. At least at Hogwarts every year thus far had had a rather predictable schedule.

Done washing, he turned off the water, dried off, and donned the dressing gown. In the bedroom, Bizzy had disappeared, but his clothes for the day were laid out on top of the recently made bed. Harry quickly changed, a little disconcerted that the robes fit him perfectly.

He ran the towel through his hair one more time and spotted a pair of shoes at the foot of the bed. He slipped them on and tried to open the door, much like he did the night before. This time, however, the door gave to reveal a masked Death Eater. The black robed man (or woman Harry couldn't tell) nodded at him and started walking down the corridor. Before he could think of traveling in the opposite direction, Harry felt a pulling sensation and couldn't resist following. After several hallways he did find if he kept only a few steps in between him and the Death Eater he felt less like a dog on a leash.

He played with the idea engaging the Death Eater into conversation but thought better of it. To pass the growing silence Harry took in the corridors they were walking through. This part of building had very few decorations. A few tapestries, some statues, and vases broke up the sections of empty wall. Harry was surprised to see absolutely no portraits whatsoever and found their absence almost startling. It had taken him more than a month his first year to comfortably walk alone down the hallways of Hogwarts and not jump every time a throat cleared off to his left or someone greeted him on his right. Once he got used to it, though, he rather liked the company the portraits gave.

As the two walked the tapestries became vibrant and more majestic; the statues taller and more awe-inspiring; the vases larger and more detailed. Harry deduced his quarters were located in some guest wing; _this_ was where the real action took place.

Their walk continued and Harry found himself surprised at how large the place was. Surely it hadn't taken this long to get to his room last night? Maybe they weren't going back to that study at all. In answer to his current musings, the Death Eater stopped in front of a pair of doors and opened the right hand one. His tour guide motioned for Harry to enter. It was a dining room—perhaps _the_ dining room for the space was quite large. Death Eaters sans masks and hoods sat along the long table in clusters of fours or fives with several chairs in between each group. Harry was just able to spot Voldemort at the head of the table engaged in a serious looking conversation with a handful of men and women. There was a relaxed atmosphere to the room, and Harry felt himself on edge because this was _not_ how he would picture meal times with Voldemort, the man who fashioned himself a lord.

A slight nudge in his back reminded Harry that he still had company. The Death Eater prompted Harry farther up the table to an open seat across from Severus Snape. Harry felt his face flush with anger at seeing the man and remembering his part in why Harry was even here in the first place. Yet their private conversation last night made him pause. Snape had been surprisingly candid, almost decent to Harry the night before. Maybe, just maybe, he would see how this all played out before he started yelling. Therefore, feeling rather Slytherin, Harry allowed himself to be seated—without a fuss. Snape raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. Sleep well?" It wasn't a sincere inquiry, and Harry half suspected it was meant to goad him; he answered anyway.

"I did. Thanks for asking, Professor."

"I like to maintain a passing interest in your welfare. Feel free to help yourself, provided you eat with some decorum." Snape waved a hand over the various food items within reach. Just like at Hogwarts there were steaming dishes of eggs and potatoes; piles of perfectly browned toast and bacon; bowls of porridge and yogurt. Harry filled up his plate and tucked in hungrily.

"You will be happy to note that your education will commence this morning, Mr. Potter," Snape said while surveying Harry over his teacup. "Can't have you lazing about when we put so much effort into getting you here."

Harry paused in between bites, "Will I get my wand back for the lessons?" He wondered if he could figure a way out of this bonding business.

"No, I am afraid this is not possible at the moment."

"Why not?" Harry demanded, his Slytherin coolness was rapidly fading away. He noticed several Death Eaters turn in their direction to listen in.

"Because, Mr. Potter," Snape began with a strange smile on his face, "The nature of your studies today does not require a wand."

"And what will I be learning?" Honestly, trying to get information out of the man was like trying to get a fully-grown mandrake out of the ground.

"What else would you be learning? Magic of course! Do you even use your brain, boy? No wonder you were sorted into Gryffindor; Ravenclaw would have had to drop her standards completely."

Harry dropped his fork. A few Death Eaters listening began to chuckle, and he felt a familiar resentment rising towards Snape. It was just like Potions all over again. Tightening his jaw, Harry looked up at the black robed man. "How do I learn magic without a wand, _sir_?"

Snape's lips quirked at Harry's obvious frustration, "Manners, Mr. Potter. It is simple really, but if I told you _how_ that would be giving away the lesson, wouldn't it? Now finish your meal, like a good lad."

Harry viciously grabbed his fork and speared some egg pretending it was one of Snape's dark eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a woman lean over to speak. She was pretty, beautiful too, even if it made him blush a little to admit it. Her curly hair was golden colored and fashionably pulled back, giving Harry a clear view of her elegant features and striking silver-blue eyes. When she spoke it was with confidence that she needn't raise her voice to be heard.

"Honestly Severus, there is no sport in provoking Gryffindors. They are simply too dull-minded to pick up on the subtleties of conversation and merely take every comment as an insult." Her eyes flickered over to Harry who bristled at her words. He straightened in his chair and opened his mouth to give her a piece of his mind. Then, with uncharacteristic insight, Harry realized any verbal retaliation would be playing right into her hand. Instead, like a small child, he settled for leveling a fierce glare at the interloper and continued eating. She laughed briefly; it was a bright laugher and did not belong to a follower of Voldemort. "The Golden Boy _is_ capable of restraint. You painted such a bleak picture of him, Severus."

Snape shook his head, "Forgive me, Madam Lochrin, but I must differ with your assessment. Potter is merely trying to prove a point at the moment. The true test will come when he is angry. I suspect we will not need to wait for long."

The woman, this Madam Lochrin, nodded in agreement, "I shall have to see what I can do with him then."

Done with his meal, Harry pushed his plate away and decided to break his brief silence. "I am right here, you know."

The two exchanged a look before the blonde woman said, "Hush child, the adults are talking."

Before anything else could be said silence descended in the room. Harry looked around before he followed everyone else's gaze to the head of the table where Voldemort stood, observing those at the long table.

"My trusted Death Eaters," he began, "I am sure by this point you have noticed a new addition to our group." Voldemort paused and seemed to allow himself a smile. Snickers and not a few whispers broke out but were stifled quickly. "Harry Potter arrived last night and will be spending the next two years under our tutelage. To that effect, know that he is under my protection until he does come of age. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Master," the Death Eaters answered in chorus.

"Good. Carry on." Voldemort sat back down and addressed the man to his right. Conversations began again as some Death Eaters finished eating. Others pushed away from the table and made off to start their various duties as servants to a dark lord. Harry looked back across the table and was surprised to find Snape's chair empty.

"Shall we, Mr. Potter?" The Potions Master as well as the blonde haired woman stood behind him.

It was a simple question, but it felt like a crossroads. Every fiber of Harry's body told him to fight, to not give in, and _to not make it easy for them_. By being complacent he felt like he was giving them his permission to mold him into a soldier for the Dark forces. But he couldn't forget Snape's words from the night before. Back at Hogwarts he could never get away from being The-Boy-Who-Lived. Anytime he walked down a corridor people would whisper or point, obviously talking about him. While it pained him to admit it (and oh how it pained him) Snape had a point. No one had so much as glanced his way at breakfast until Voldemort had made his announcement. Despite being Voldemort's most hated enemy he hadn't even gotten so much as a glare yet. Maybe he could do this. He rather liked the idea of not playing Atlas for a while.

Harry stood up and faced his professor. He met the man's eyes squarely and nodded.

"Good," said Snape obviously pleased, "As Dumbledore is prone to say, 'Education waits for no wizard.'"

**Author's note: So not much happened, but it is a chapter. Thanks for sticking around. As a peace offering of sorts for not updating in forever I complied a list of stories I've read and liked in my profile. Check it out, and do let me know if you have any you think I should add/read. **

**To answer a question posed by Godwolf Fenrir (if you even remember asking it): I meant for the idea of wards around Gryffindor Tower to be a possibility. Harry was **_**hoping**_** Dumbledore had placed them so Pettigrew would get caught, and Harry could potentially be saved. I agree though, Peter does not seem like the type to break through any wards, much less ones put up by Dumbledore. **


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